A feather in their cap

She is living in the Rosemary
Deep in the woody strands
A diminutive so tiny
And she has no hands
Imagine that just tiny feet
And feathers that is all
Apart from the uropygial oil
insulation she’s no fool
And waterproofing
Godly stuff
Managing the cold
All the water freezing
And goodness knows how old
In the early starkness
No shelter really there
A hostile bough
One wonders how
They manage the cold air
The icicles and hoar frosts
Which is why I feed
All the little birdies
With various types of seed
And fat balls with some insects
And a seed mixture too
I feed peanuts from my study window
That know what to do
Such meagreness all undersized
Flitting here and there
The winter feathered beings
Living on a wing and prayer